A Rose In Any Other Language

I read my daughters' texts nightly. They are not allowed to have their phones in their rooms at night and they are not allowed to change their passwords so that Brian and I can have access to them. This is not an invasion of privacy. This is a safety precaution. They are still learning to navigate life, and we need to be aware of what's going on. So far, they are respectful of this and only bothered a tiny bit.

Then, Hadley pulled a quick one on us.

She began texting in Espanol. Wha--?? I only speak Dora, ya know, and she's way beyond Dora. Weirder still was the friend she was texting with--let's just call her The Sweetest Girl Ever In The Whole Wide World. I couldn't imagine The Sweetest Girl Ever In The Whole Wide World saying anything that needed to be coded. Heck. I couldn't imagine her saying much at all!

My curiosity (and my nerves) were peaked. I copied the texts and pasted them into Google translate. Y'all know what? They were texting homework. They had a conversational test in Espanol I and were practicing. Okay. So, not only do I have a good kiddo, but she's got good friends as well. Wanna know what the conversation was?

My dad teaches geography, helps with softball and golf and likes world politics and spending time our family (mi familia, Dora taught me that).

My sister is very athletic. She plays softball, likes to laugh and is social. She is eleven years old.

My mom is forty-four years old and likes to rest. 

Um ... That's what she has to say about me? Brian gets world politics; Briley gets "laugh" and "social" and I get rest?!?

I've been blogging since 2005. I've written four full-size books in two years. I'm in the middle of finishing my fifth book. Sure, I'm running behind schedule, but who doesn't? I was a regular for over a year on a local news show. I write a regular newspaper column, I write a regular magazine column, I teach full-time, and I speak to various groups all over our region. I co-produce the OKC Listen TO Your Mother Show. I attend softball tournaments and drive to golf events. And the word she comes up with is REST?

But, you know what? She's got a point.

Friday night, I took a book to bed at 8:30. It was glorious.

When she grows up, Hadley wants to study political sciences and behavioral sciences. She wants to work with the FBI in their behavioral analysis group.

She thinks she's so smart ... and she is.

After reading her texts in Espanol, I totally believe she's chosen the right field.

As for me? I'm going to bed early tonight, hoping I can turn off my alarm in the morning because of snow...

Christmas Headlines

If my holidays were summed up with Headlines and Teasers ...

Sick Children Left to Fin for Themselves
With the last day of school hanging heavy in the air, parents continue to teach others' children while their own children suffer at home with a tummy bug.

Tummy Bug Take Two
As if to teach her parents a lesson about taking care of their children, Hadley, age 13, proceeds to vomit for twelve hours straight--beginning at nine in the evening; her mother is heard to have said, "Ugh."

Family Unpacks Before They Even Leave
Having their three-day sojourn to southern Oklahoma thwarted by sick kids, the Davis family repacks their suitcase so as to not haul too much stuff. It didn't help.

Heather Davis Spends Eight Hours In A Car
After leaving from Christmas with her In-laws, Davis repacks her bag to travel with her mother to Stillwater.

Family Enjoys Time Together; Wishes for Different Circumstances
Davis's Uncle Mac passed from this life to the next. His family expresses regret at his passing, but rejoices in his perfect healing.

Candlelight Service Calms Davis's Heart Before Storm
 Singing carols with her family and friends and sharing candlelight as they sang "Silent Night" helped Heather Davis, ever-graying, to regain Christmas spirit in her heart.

Teen exclaims, 'This Is The Best Christmas So Far'
After opening Christmas gifts from family on Christmas Eve, Hadley Davis makes her miraculous exclamation. Parents rejoice over positive words escaping from their teen's mouth.

'Mom, I don't feel good,' Cries Tween
Heather Davis was awoken (it's a word) by her 11-year-old Briley on Christmas morning, not with shouts of excitement, but with moans of misery.

Davis Receives Fateful Call From Her Husband
With all the urgent care offices closed due to Christmas, Brian Davis takes his tween to the ER due to high fever. Calls his wife with one word: Flu.

Evacuate Nana Plan Goes Off Without A Hitch
Davis and daughter Hadley transport Nana to sister, Rachel's home to keep her away from sickly tween (and eventual sickly husband).

Mother Daughter Share Quality Time Thanks To Hotwire
To allow the sickies to heal and the wellies to stay well, Davis and Hadley score a deal at a hotel less than half a mile from her house; both enjoy a Duck Dynasty marathon.

Good News: World's Best Aunt Wins Christmas
When Davis's four-year-old niece was denied drums by her parents, Davis purchased herself some drums and left them in the care of her niece. They both rock.

Peace. Yes.

The second Sunday in Advent is Peace. And let me just say, "AMEN!"

Y'all? This week.

Whew!

On Monday, I launched my fourth and final TMI Mom book, Girlfriend Rules. (Don't worry--it's not my final book; just the final in that series.) The online party was a blast! (Did you miss it? So sorry.)

The rest of the week was a blur. Seriously. We had basketball practices, meetings, parties. A blur.

Then we hit the weekend.

Friday, I took dinner to a dear friend who had just had a baby, Hadley had a party at our house with a bunch of super sweet but super loud teens, and Briley had a hitting clinic in Tulsa after her club Christmas party.

Saturday, we woke up at 4:45 to drive four hours to a birthday party for the  sweetest three-year-old*, ate lunch with family, drove four hours back to Briley's first basketball game (she won), cleaned the bathroom after a massive, major messy mishap, listened to the Oklahoma Bedlam game (the Pokes won! WOO!), took Briley to a birthday party, fried chicken (twice--I can never get that done enough) then collapsed into bed about eleven or so.

This morning, we woke up about seven to get Briley ready for her three-show spot as Elizabeth, the cousin of Mary and mother of John the Baptist, made breakfast biscuits for Sunday School, started three worship services (finished one), argued with one kid about where we'd eat lunch, argued with another about who she could invite to said lunch, went grocery shopping at Hellmart, put away about a gazillion pounds of groceries, started beef stew in the crockpot, wrote three articles, completed four loads of laundry, fed two dogs, fed two cats, ran the dishwasher three times, and am finally sitting down at 9:21.

Mercy, y'all.
This Sunday in Advent is Peace. 

Ironic? Nope. 
Is God trying to tell me something? Always.
What can I do about it? I'm not sure.

But this week, I'm going to be more cognizant about finding small moments in which I can be still.

My friend who had the baby is slightly older than I am. I've thought to myself that I'm so incredibly happy for her and her family, but if I were in her spot, I'd freak.

When Briley realized that Mary was only slightly older than she is right now and expecting a baby, she freaked.

Last night about midnight with the weight of the week and the coming day, I almost freaked. In fact, I wanted to freak--I didn't. Instead, I ate a Reese's Peanut Butter Christmas Tree.

Big sigh.

This week: Peace.

Co-Sleeping and Attachment Parenting

(Alternate titles)

... Or, How Your Hands Will Tingle When You Sleep On The Edge Of Your Bed All Night Long 

... Or, Don't Kill Your Husband Because Then Your Children Will Be Orphans

... Or, Oh, Hell! It's Storming! There Goes My Night

There will come a time when you, as a parent, believe that your children are growing up quickly and you are sadly leaving all things child-ish behind.

Then it will storm. And while your husband stays in his recliner "checking the weather," you will retreat to your bed to comfort the fruits of your loins. And by fruits, I mean fruity kids who still get rattled every time the windows rattle even though we've never had any true storm damage.

 Here are the top five ways to break your children of co-sleeping and attachment parenting once they hit the double digits.

1. Blackmail. Take a selfie of the kid as she snuggles into your spine and threaten to post it on your blog, your Facebook, your Twitter, and your Instagram.  She will object saying, "But my hair is in curlers!" Unfortunately, if you have children who have grown up online because their mother is a prolific blogger, you might actually end up with a sweet-smiling kid. You'll use the picture anyway.

2. Melatonin. Lots and lots of melatonin. If you give your kid enough of this natural sleep aid, she'll sleep-walk her way back to her bedroom, after she makes a stop in the bathroom, the kitchen and the dogs' room, but who cares? She's out of your bed, right? Mission accomplished. (*Disclaimer: The child was only given the prescribed amount of Melatonin and is under a doctor's supervision. Don't call protective services. They already know.)

3. Lie. Tell the kids that the storm is over. They'll reluctantly crawl from your bed and, if Mother Nature is on your side, she'll be quiet long enough for them to settle into your own bed. If, however, the wind picks up, thunder claps, and the lightening flashes, those crazy kids will be right back up in your grill, yo. (PS--Mother Nature can be a bitch.)

4. Admit Defeat. Eventually, you'll be so tired that you'll just give into sleep with a kid suctioned to your back. You'll fall asleep on the side of the bed and your hands will tingle throughout the night. You will sneeze, hit your head on the night stand, curse loudly and no one will skip a beat in their snores, including your husband, who still had his whole side of the bed to himself. You'll contemplate going all Lorena Bobbitt, but your hands will be so asleep that you can't even wipe the tears from your eyes. But, that's okay. They're only little once. It was about three years ago that either girl could be considered little, but whatever. if they want to sleep on your sciatic nerve who are you to stop them?

5. Bribery. At five in the morning, after about three hours of sleep in twenty-minute intervals, you will channel the energy of sleepless mommas who have gone before you and fling your offspring onto their father. He will then offer them $5 each to return to their beds and they will comply. He will then slink over to your side of the bed and start touching you as a husband is wont to do. You will offer him $50 to leave you alone for just one more hour.

Lucy and Desi were onto something with their twin beds.

Happy New Year, Take Two

Seriously, my alarm must not be working. I really only want to wake up at 6:00 a.m. and get some writing or yoga or mediation or a shower by myself worked into my day. I've set my alarm every single day to do this and so far, I've woken up at 7:42, 9:33, and today at 8:24. I'm not hearing my alarm. Brian assures me that it's going off. He also assures me that I'm turning it off. I have no recollection of this mess at all. Brian also says that maybe I'd hear the alarm if I went to bed before midnight and didn't play on my phone right before I went to bed. But, what does he know.

Nonetheless, I will continue to have my alarm set for six in the morning and will do my best to not hit snooze, but to wake up and be productive instead. It's part of my monthly challenge.

The other part of this monthly challenge is twenty miles. D1 and I plan on walking a total of twenty miles this month. This is because we need to get moving and because she'll be starting golf really soon and she's taking a trip over Spring Break and needs to be ready to walk a lot. So far, we've done zero miles.

January 1 was the first, and we just chilled out. January 2 was yesterday, and I was in Tulsa doing this:



(Happy belated Creme Puff Day, by the way.)

I feel confident that we'll get our twenty miles in for this month, just probably not until school starts back.

And I do believe that this post sums up the beauty and the beast of what we call Christmas Vacation. During the school year, we go non-stop, ninety-to-nothing, pedal to the metal, balls to the wall (well, one of us anyway) that when Christmas vacation rolls around and the holidays and all of their obligations are out of the way, we collapse and our bodies go into full-blown rest mode and nothing else matters. It's a beautiful thing because we need it. It's a beastly thing because it's not endless and we have to get back into the swing of things just as quickly as we got out of the swing of things. Not that we're swingers ... despite what some have assumed based on my book title alone. (We're not. So there. Stop emailing me.)

Saturdays I'll be blogging about our progress, so you can rest assured that even though I'm not daily blogging about how we're meeting (or missing) our challenges, I'll keep you informed weekly. You're breathing easier already, right?

So, even though 2014 has started, I call a do-over on my monthly challenge on January 6. Until then, don't call me before 9 a.m..

#NaBloPoMo: Favorite Hour Of The Day

I don't wake up well. My theory is that I don't enter a REM sleep until about 5:00 a.m.. Then my alarm goes off an hour later, and I've basically gotten an hour's worth of good, deep sleep. This also explains why I have such vivid remembrances of my dreams. This also explains why I'm not a tolerable person--or a person to be tolerated--until after 10:00 a.m..

I spend most of my waking hours feeling sluggish. I'll wake up fully around lunch time, and then want to take a nap around 2:00-ish. When one works outside of one's home and is responsible for the lives and education of others, a nap at this time is not acceptable.

In the evenings, we stay so busy with softball, golf, youth group, activities, lessons, groups, clubs, whatever that when 8:30 rolls around, I'm spent. I'll throw The Daughters in bed and finish up what needs to be done until about 10:00.

At 10:00, when the world is dark and the moon is bright, I finally come alive.

Source

I am most productive after 10:00. During the summer months when our days are carefree, I can stay up until two or three in the morning and accomplish amazing things.

But, since we've become accustomed to such things as electricity and running water, I'll have to keep working on The Man's schedule. Come summer time, though, if you want me, call after ten.

Five For Friday: Must-Haves on a Tiring Friday

I love me a good Friday; who doesn't, right? But these past few weeks have been brutal--crazy schedules, lots of activities, the new television season started. It's all been good, let's be sure about that, but it's been taxing all the same. And it's all coming to a head on this Friday. We're all exhausted. We're all cranky. And we're all ready for tomorrow: Sleeping in!

So, on this tiring Friday, here are my must haves:

1. A ponytail. There's no way I could've stood under the dryer for ten minutes. No way. My bangs are dry and in place and still-wet hair is pulled back with an elastic band. I am not ashamed.

2. Damp jeans. Yeah, so, we've basically not done a full-on laundry session since, oh, I don't know, the fourth of July, maybe. So, my jeans are damp because I barely remembered to actually wash my jeans for today. What I did not remember until this morning was to put them in the dryer.

3. Toothpaste on my shirt. At least I brushed my teeth. I will gladly wear my toothpaste-laden shirt tody as a badge that I am fighting against tartar build-up and have minty-fresh breath to boot.

4. A referree. Someone's gotta settle the issues between these two fussing and fuming sisters and it's not looking like Brian or I can actually do that.

Source

5. Donuts. Don't talk to me about trans fats and carb overload, y'all. It's Friday and it's the best I can do, which is, ironically, the best I can do just about any other day of the week.

The Best Advice I Never Took

Across A Crowded Parking Lot

Even with a good trip to Hellmart, I come out of that place feeling blah. Such was the case last weekend, when I made my weekly trip to the mecca of fools to gather our weekly groceries so that I could take them home, spend an hour prepping them and putting them away only to have the other three members of my family declare that there's nothing to eat in the house. Ya know the drill, right?

But last weekend, I got a pleasant surprise when I left. As I backed out of my parking space and noticed a cart, still full of bagged groceries. It was just sitting in the middle of the parking lot, all by itself, as if it had run away from its pusher.

This is not my picture because I didn't have my phone. Source

I reached to the passenger seat where I normally kept my purse to grab my phone and take a picture of this maverick cart. But, my phone was not to be found, and my purse was not in the seat.

I sighed. I knew exactly where my purse (and my phone) was. I sighed again.

This trip was pretty basic. I got milk, bread, peanut butter--it was as if a snow storm had been predicted. I got a bunch of eggs because we like protein around our house. I picked up some Febreeze 'cause these cats we got for Daughter 2 are smelly. Really smelly. And, since the school supplies were out in all of their colorful glory, and because three-ring binders that I need for my classroom were on sale, I loaded my cart up with thirty poly-binders for 88 cents each.

The only problem was the at the binders rang up for 99 cents each. I corrected the price for James, my friendly Hellmart checker, and he graciously adjusted the price for all thirty binders. He did this with a smile. The lady behind me in line, however, was not smiling. She was mumbling. And cussing. And inching her cart closer and closer to the backs of my ankles--at least that's where I think she was aiming.

Finally, I paid, gathered my Earth-friendly bags and headed to the car. I loaded my notebooks in the back seat because I would be taking those to my room this week. Then I lamented the fact that it doesn't matter how little or how much I buy at Hellmart, I will end up paying over $100 every single week. I dug my keys out of my pocket, started my car and backed out. That's when I saw the rogue cart.

I laughed. I needed that. Everyone needs a laugh when they leave Hellmart. I wanted to Instagram this solitary cart holding abandoned (or run-away) groceries. I laughed again and reached for my phone. But, as I stated earlier, it was not there.

Again, I laughed. I knew where my purse was.

I drove myself over to my cart, which had rolled two and a half rows away ... with my groceries, my purse, and my phone still in it.

Go ahead and laugh. I did. So did the three cars, two trucks and random cyclist who saw me loading the rest of my groceries. Everyone needs a laugh when they leave Hellmart ...

Everyone also needs chocolate. Go register to win some Sees Candies HERE.

Weekly Run Down--June 29

Super moon, TV appearances, book signings, birthdays--this week has been epic to say the least!

This week's most popular post was my Super Moon Party post in which the entire universe, including the so-called super moon, conspired against me.

I also turned a year older this week. Yesterday was my birthday--I'm not even sure how old I am at this point (that post is coming this week). I had a fairly specific list of things that I wanted.

Also for my birthday, I sat down and chatted with Laura Moss of Good Day, Tulsa on the television. She was lovely; I was witty and talked about Mint Oreos. Together we made the perfect pair.

Today is my autograph party for TMI Mom: Oversharing My Life at Ida Red Boutique (3336 S Peoria, Tulsa) from 1-3. I hope to see you there! You'll recognize me because I'll be wearing my pole dancing wedges.

If you haven't signed up for my newsletter, be sure you do that. I won't be sending you lots of junk, but there will be fun info that appears in the newsletter before it appears here or on Facebook. So, be a cool kid and sign up!

http://www.minivan-momma.com/2013/06/five-for-friday-things-imma-do-to.html

Wordless Wednesday: Trip #4,261 to Hellmart. This week.

My Super-Duper Moon Party

The Daughters were out late Friday and Saturday night and when bedtime rolled around on Saturday, we didn't even have to tell them twice that it was time. Since Brian had been up early on Saturday morning to swim and had taken the girls out to play golf Saturday afternoon and was planning on taking Daughter 2 to her beloved softball camp early Sunday morning (it was really a one-day clinic, but we called it "camp" and all was good), he turned in early. So, at 10:00 last night, I found myself alone with the cats and our big dog JJ, who prefers to sleep inside. Our dumb dog Bo preferred to stay outside, bark at the moon and keep the neighbors awake.

This. This was my Super Moon party.

Comments I Wanna Post But I Won't 'Cause I'm Nice. Dammit.

I'm tired. I'll admit it. Momma loves her sleep and for the past two weeks, we've been getting to bed late and waking up early. This morning was the first morning that I've really gotten to wake up when I wanted to in a very long time.

It's June. I sleep late in June. Not sleeping late is not good for my mind.

Oh! The Vanity

This morning, we woke up early. Brian and Daughter 1 would not be going to church, but Daughter 2 and I would. And, with Easter being a very recent memory, she wanted to look good. With a couple of really late nights and a garage sale under my belt in the past week, I just wanted to look presentable.

I showered and pulled my still wet hair back in a bun before I smeared on some lipgloss and blue eyeliner (I am not even lying). I decided God loved me the way I was and called myself good.

Conversation of the Week

In my own bed on a weekend morning.

Me: (with my back to The Dad) Hey you...

{deep breathing}

Me: Wanna snuggle? Wanna cuddle? Wanna smoosh like those crazy kids on Jersey Shore?

{interrupted breathing, rustling of sheets}

Me: Dude. Are you leaving me hanging? This is the best sexy talk I can muster this early.

Daughter 2: (wrapping her arms around my waist from the back) What's sexy talk, Momma?

I miss my friend

I miss my friend.  I was warned that she would ditch me once I had kids. The Dad warned me. My own momma warned me. Even my other momma friends admitted that she was a fair weather friend at best. They said as long as I had kids, my friend would avoid me like I had the plague. She was dubbed "The Plague of Motherhood."

Friday Film: Listen To Your Mother

Once upon a time in a land far, far away (Arkansas), I was in a little show that quickly became a big, big part of my life: Listen To Your Mother. The brainchild of Ann Imig, Listen To Your Mother gives mothers a microphone. Lela Davidson (one of my favorite people to stalk) and Stephanie McCratic (who is my own personal Oprah) led the charge and brought this fabulous show to Northwest Arkansas and... AND... they let me be a part of it!  Honestly, aside from getting married and birthing The Daughters, I would easily say that Listen To Your Mother is one of the coolest things I've ever been a part of.

Here, you can find the first set of videos. You'll want to check out the NWA Mothers first - they are simply the coolest Mothers out there. You will laugh. You will cry. You will think deep thoughts. You'll be thankful and giddy, and you'll want to be friends with every single one of these amazing women. I'm still in awe that I'm friends with them! I'm a cool kid when I'm around them.

And right here, you can watch me reading my LTYM piece, Sexy Back. I'd love to hear what you think.

I'd also like for YOU to overshare now... what private item of yours has made it to the public arena?

Conversation of the week

Daughter 2: Momma?

Me: What, honey?

{pause} 

Daughter 2: Momma?

Me: Yes?

{Pause}

Daughter 2: Momma?

Me:  What, Daughter 2?

{pause}

Daughter 2: Momma?

Me: Hey! I'm listening! (I even bulge my eyes out while looking at her for dramatic effect)

{pause}

Daughter 2: Momma?

Me: What? What? What? What? What?

Daughter 2: (Looks at me with a quizzical look)

Me: Honey, what did you want?

Daughter 2: Oh! Yeah... Sometimes I feel like you don't listen to me.

The Last Day of School

The last day of school, just 12 short weeks ago, a co-worker said to me, "I have lots of projects planned for the summer. I'm going to work around the house and get so much done."

I said to her, "I wish I were a do-it-yourself'er. I'd do all kinds of things around my home. But, I'm not, so I won't."

The crazies go to Hellmart late at night

Last night about 10:00, just as I was almost ready for bed, I remembered that I hadn't finished my grocery shopping. I had been to the big city earlier and had gotten most of my groceries at Whole Foods where, even if I buy crap, I feel so much better and sanctimonious about buying crap.  And quite frankly, it's not often I get to feel sanctimonious.